Through a collection of autobiographical memories, my work creates a space to expose the facade of memory as it was experienced during childhood, remembered as an adult, and co-constructed by external perspectives. Being a part of the narrative space, I rely on my enjoyment of rehearsing childhood memories through a process of discussion and reconstructing memories with others–in particular my mom. With a collaborative ideation practice and by consciously engaging in the curiosity of the experience of others, it forces me to acknowledge my own distortions of the past, while remaining open to unrealized truths–collaging together memories from a childlike perspective, with an adulterated view. 

I am responding to the echoes of a complicated and dysfunctional familial history, challenging the creation of identity, and highlighting the incorrectness and messiness of memory. Originating from personal memories that collaborate with the mythologies of children’s literature, symbols and personified objects act as a source of familiarity and uncover a disturbance in the ordinary by employing the uncanny. At times, the imagery being humorous and at others being horrific–exposing my own cynical and lighthearted nature, while pushing the viewer to question whether they should laugh or ask if everything is ok.  

The work reveals illustrative drawings and traces of repetition that run parallel to the act of routinely processing the past–allowing the drawings to juxtapose both the failure of memory and its endurance; where the more that I remember, the more distorted the story, and memory, becomes. As a psychological landscape, repetition is a tool for illusion and to reference the familiarity of the seemingly mundane, yet surprisingly monumental moments. My memories are selective, visceral, and sloppy, so I know that memory is more than just a liar. It is malleable, inquisitive, impressionable, connecting, and seemingly real. The drawings are curious, innocent, and recognizable that are matured through unearthed trauma, humor, and cynicism–a lot like memory. By challenging the reliability of personal truth, my work acts as a reminder of what is often unseen, unknowable, whilst tributing the act of telling and reliving a story, over and over again, each time with a shifted lens. The work is not a method of fixing truth; rather, a constant revision of perception and understanding to whom and where we belong.